


I'll Make It Okay

by fallenforsupernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Depression, Eating Disorders, M/M, Self-conscious Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 13:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3211622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenforsupernatural/pseuds/fallenforsupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling in love with Dean was the scariest thing ever to have happened to Sam. No werewolf or vampire could ever compare to the realization that he'd fallen for the worst person and it sent Sam tumbling over the edge. He lost his will, and Dean has to try and bring it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Make It Okay

**Author's Note:**

> THIS FIC IS ABOUT AN EATING DISORDER. THIS MIGHT BE A TRIGGER FOR SOME PEOPLE SO I WANT TO GIVE YOU WARNING. Not everything may be 100% accurate and I am sorry.

Sam didn’t know when it happened.

One day, he idolized Dean as the most amazing big brother ever, and the next he wanted to strangle the girl sitting on Dean’s lap, eating his face, and take her place.

It was the weirdest sensation. Sam knew it was jealousy; he wasn’t a complete idiot. He just thought it was jealousy because he was so used to all of Dean’s attention on him and not on some skank.

Too bad he couldn’t even hate Laura. He hated the idea of her, and he loathed Dean’s girlfriend with every fiber of his being, but Laura was so _good_. She got good grades and when she wasn’t hanging out with Dean she was feeding orphans or curing world hunger or something. She never objected to Sam’s presence when all the other girlfriends gave him a sour look or ignored him all together. To Dean’s flings, Sam was nothing but a dirty piece of gum stuck to their shoes. But not to Laura. She talked to him, asked about school, offered to help Sam with homework, and didn’t get upset when he got snappish with her.

It’s not like he didn’t understand what Dean saw in her. Laura was beautiful. Seriously gorgeous, model type beauty. She was good, beautiful, and perfect. Dean worshipped the ground she walked on, and she loved him. Every time Sam heard the two of them exchanging words of devotion, or the usual “love you” that occurred when Laura was going home, he wanted to claw his eyes out.

Their hunt lasted over three months, so Laura and Dean got pretty serious—as serious as two high schoolers could get—and Sam wanted to die. They were renting an apartment because it was cheaper than paying for three months in a motel. Every day Laura came over, all giggles and sunshine and rainbows. When he woke up in the middle of the night with sticky boxers and Dean’s name on his lips, Sam finally understood why he was jealous.

He threw up in the bathroom and stayed home from school the next day.

Sam was a sick fuck. He was actually in love with his brother. In _love_. With his _brother_. There were so many things wrong with that sentence that Sam wanted to hurl. Unfortunately, he hadn’t eaten a thing all day and couldn’t do much better than dry heave over the toilet.

It was that moment that Dean and Laura walked in the door. Sam had left the bathroom door open and could hear Laura’s giggling and Dean’s bad puns. He stood up to close the door but felt shaky on his legs. He didn’t want to see Dean, not after his filthy realization.

Dean’s smile faded when he noticed Sam. “What’s up, Sammy? You don’t look so good.”  
“I might have food poisoning,” Sam lied. “I stayed home from school and threw up a bunch, so I feel better now.”

Dean stepped forward and held his hand against Sam’s forehead. “No fever, good.”  
Sam tried to ignore the longing when Dean pulled his hand back. “You should stay away,” Sam croaked. “I don’t want to get either of you sick.” _Like I could. Perverted crushes on your brother aren’t contagious_.  
“Can I get you something to eat?” Laura offered.

Sam shook his head. “Don’t wanna risk it.”  
“Okay, honey.” Laura frowned sympathetically. “Food poisoning is the worse.”  
“Yeah,” Sam mumbled. Dean rubbed his shoulder.

“Laura, I’ll call you later, ‘kay?” Dean said. “Gotta take care of this brat.” He winked and nudged Sam so he knew he was joking.

Laura kissed him. “Absolutely, honey. Call me later. Feel better, Sam!”

Sam waved weakly and let Dean help him onto the bed. He loved Dean’s hands, loved how gentle his brother was with him. He loved that Dean tucked him into bed even though Sam was thirteen and it was 4:00 in the afternoon and there was no reason to be tucked in.

“I’m gonna let you go to sleep, and if you need anything when you wake up just let me know,” Dean said. Sam nodded sleepily. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until that moment. He spent most of the night trying to figure out what to do about his crush on his brother. Right now, he was going to sleep and not wake up for a year.

*

The hunt stretched on and on, then it turns out that John had found another hunt in the same area and decided to stick around to fix this one up too. It meant more time with Laura in a high school were he was “Dean’s brother” instead of “Sam”. A couple of Dean’s friends had invited Sam to hang out with him until they realized how different from Dean he actually was. After that, Sam was on his own.

He’d come to terms with the fact that he was a freak with a crush on his brother and was finding ways to deal with it. Right now he was taking the “eating your feelings” method. They didn’t exactly have a lot of money to spend on food, but every penny Sam found on the street or wormed from a hustling pool—no one even considered that Sam could be good, he was only a kid—went to buying candy or chips or ice cream. Sam didn’t like any of those foods but he found it was easier to stuff his face that talk about his issues.

It wasn’t until he couldn’t button up his jeans anymore that Sam realized he had a problem.

At first he thought it’d gotten taller, but the jeans didn’t feel to short. They were just too small in the waist. Sam didn’t want to think about the weight he gained. Considering the fact that John had them on a strict exercising regimen, it was a miracle that Sam managed to gain so much weight. It was sickening. He’d poke the fat in the mirror and stare at his grotesque body. How could anyone love him now, with all the fat he had?

All the girls at so school were pretty and thin. Laura was pretty and thin. No wonder Dean liked her and not Sam. Even if he wasn’t Dean’s brother, there was no way he would go for Sam. Not in a million years. He was ugly.

Dean had run out to go for a pizza, which meant Sam was alone with Laura. He should probably stick to one piece but seeing Dean and Laura cuddling all afternoon meant Sam was having a minimum of three.

“How do you do it?” Sam asked Laura.

“Hm?” She looked up from her book. “What?”  
“You’re so beautiful,” Sam elaborated. “So thin. How do you stay thin?”

Laura smiled softly. “That’s not something a boy so young should hear.”  
Sam frowned. “What does that mean? I’m old enough to know everything!” _I use a_ gun _for god’s sake!_

“You’re in great shape, Sam, you don’t need to worry about that kind of stuff,” Laura assured.

Sam pulled up his shirt. “Really? I’m in great shape?”

Laura didn’t miss a beat. “Baby fat. You’ll spurt up another four inches and that will all turn to muscle.”  
Sam sniffed. “I want to be thin _now_.”

“Just diet and exercise, honey,” Laura said. “It’s the healthiest thing to do.”

*

Sam ended up eating four pieces of pizza and then crying in the shower, his muffin top spilling over his pants.

*

A hand slammed Sam’s locker shut and he jumped a foot in the air. “What the fu–,”

Pretty, manicured fingers drummed on the metal. “Hi, Sammy.”

“Don’t call me Sammy,” He replied automatically. He noticed who was talking and almost fell over. “Casey?”  
She grinned. “I hear you want to learn how to get thin.”

*

At lunch, Casey grabbed him and dragged him to the bathroom. She locked the door to one of the stalls and sat Sam down on the toilet, like it was a chair in the classroom. “Laura’s a good girl,” Casey started. “Probably told you about diet and exercise?”  
Sam nodded. “I just _can’t_. I just want to eat and I know I shouldn’t but I do.”

“No worries. I’ll show you how to lose weight without all that mess. Well, there’s a little mess.” Casey giggled.

Sam was confused. “What?”

Casey held up two fingers. “These are my best friends.” She pushed Sam off the toilet and stuck her fingers down her throat. Sam looked away when he heard the sound of retching, and then the flush of the toilet.

“That’s gross,” Sam muttered. “There’s no way I’m doing that.”

She pulled up her shirt. Sam eyed her flat stomach enviously. “You want this?” Casey asked. Sam nodded. “Then shut up and let me teach you.”

“I hate throwing up,” Sam protested weakly.

“That’s fine,” Casey said. “You can take the route Laura did. No eating at all. How you gonna gain calories if there’s nothing going in?”

“I love food,” Sam said.

Casey pinched Sam’s stomach, the fat rolling under her fingers. “Your call, _Sammy_.”

*

Sam walked back to the apartment, skipping his last three classes. His movements were robotic and Casey’s words kept tumbling around. _”Can’t gain calories if there’s nothing going in.”_

There would be no more calories. No more fat, no more misshapen pear of a body or giggling when he ran. He would be attractive and thin. It was everything Sam wanted, laid out in front of him. A present from a nasty brunette with nails as sharp as claws and a personality to match, but she had just given Sam a solution.

There was some leftover pizza in the apartment. Sam automatically opened the door to the fridge, like he did every day after school. His mouth watered at the cold pizza with extra pepperoni. It would be so easy to reach in and take a piece, maybe two. He’d stop at two.

But Sam knew he wouldn’t. He never stopped at two. Once he started, he never stopped.

 _Can’t gain calories if there’s nothing going in_.

*

It was hard, really hard. But Sam threw out all of his old chips and candy. He brought them to the dumpster out back, because if they were in the room there was no way of stopping Sam from digging out the bag and desperately finding the last little crumbs of chip or the one little piece of candy. Even he wasn’t desperate enough to dig through the dumpster.

He put the money for junk food into the emergency funds jar. His stomach protested, whining for food and begging Sam for one last chocolate bar or just a tiny piece of pizza. Sam scolded it roughly. “Don’t you want to be thin?” He asked. “You can’t get thin from pizza and chips. Shut up and let me do my homework.”

Sam’s stomach rumbled unhappily but he set his focus to the algebra in front of him and blocked out the little voice inside him screaming for something salty and fatty.

Laura and Dean invited him to the movies that night. “We can get some popcorn, extra butter, and maybe some skittles or gummy worms, and watch something with lots of violence.”

Sam’s mouth watered. He loved salty popcorn with something sweet like skittles. It was the perfect combination. His empty stomach pleaded with him to go, get something that tasted good. It was almost painful for Sam to shake his head. “No thanks.”  
“Are you sure?” Dean asked.

“It’ll be fun,” Laura wheedled.

Sam shook his head again. “Too much homework.”  
“I’ll bring you back some candy,” Dean said.

“No!” Sam exclaimed. “I mean, no thanks. I’ll make my own dinner.”

Dean smiled. “Okay, Sammy, if that’s really what you want.” Sam nodded and turned his head back to math. The door clicked shut but Sam still couldn’t focus on finding “x”.

*

It turns out that being hungry actually kind of sucks, and Sam was still fat. When he passed Casey in the hall she bumped into him. She didn’t spare him a glance but when Sam was looking for a pencil, he found two granola bars in his bag. _Only 50 calories a bar!_ The wrapper declared. 50 calories seemed like a lot. He found, however, if he ate them slowly he could feel fuller and not feel like he was ingesting enough calories to make him fatter than he already was.

The granola bars kept him tided over so his stomach stopped trying to eat itself alive. Dean didn’t notice Sam wasn’t gouging himself on pizza and chocolate every night. He invited Sam out to dinner with he and Laura, but Sam always declined and said he would make himself a sandwich. It was so hard to say no; the idea of sitting with Dean eating dinner made it easy for Sam to imagine they were dating. He could even ignore Laura.

Sam monitored everything that went into his stomach, he ran until his lungs burned and he couldn’t catch his breath, he ignored all food cravings. And _still_ there was a ring of fat on his stomach.

He stormed up to Casey in the hall. “I’m still fat,” He growled.

Casey raised an eyebrow. “You think all the weight drops off in a week? If it were that easy, _everyone_ would be thin. You wanna give up, fine. But this–,” She squeezed Sam’s stomach. “Is what you’re surrendering to.”

*

Sam started to play a game with himself to keep himself from eating. It was a challenge against himself. Hunger was the enemy, and Sam battled it like a knight in shining armor. It felt like a victory when the hunger pains went away. He no longer wanted to eat. He won.

The war wasn’t over, of course. It wouldn’t be over until there wasn’t an ounce of fat on Sam’s hideous body.

He relied heavily on Casey. She fuel for his fire, always reminding him why he was doing this and sneaking granola bars into his backpack. She was supportive in a way that Dean wasn’t. Dean set out to build Sam’s confidence and assure him he could do everything, but Casey gave him a reason to do everything. She made him see his fat so Sam could never give up.

When he stepped on the scale and realized that he’d dropped five pounds, he almost cried. He wasn’t there yet, but it was a start. Sam would lose this weight.

*

Dean had never been one to complain about moving, but when John came home and said they were leaving, Dean stormed out of the motel and didn’t return until the next morning. Sam packed his bag for him but when he tried to comfort Dean, his brother cut him off and stormed into the impala. He sat in the backseat with Sam, but he figured it was more about getting away from John than sitting with Sam. It didn’t stop him from faking sleep and resting on Dean’s shoulder. He felt kind of smug when Dean’s hand started combing through his hair. _You’re a passing fancy, Laura,_ Sam thought. _But_ I’ll _be here forever. Dean won’t ever leave me_.

*

Sam kind of missed Casey. She was a raging bitch and Sam hated her, but he needed her. Sam needed her anger and her hate as his motivation. Dean moped, obviously missing Laura, but he didn’t answer any of his texts. Sam’s heart panged every time Dean looked down at a text from her and didn’t answer, the heartbroken look on Dean’s face almost too much to bear. Sam wanted to wrap him up in a hug. Dean shook off all his attempts, however. Instances where Sam would turn to a bag of chips now had him turning to a few pieces of a granola bar or more frequently, nothing at all. It left him with a strangely empty feeling.

Sam had used food as a helping hand for so long. Without his crutch, Sam felt more and more lost each day. The pounds weren’t melting off like Casey made him believe. It felt like a betrayal. She led him down this horrible dark road and now Sam was spiraling out of control.

It was scary, almost terrifying. And he didn’t dare tell Dean what was going through his head. Nothing would come of that. Dean probably wouldn’t even care. “No chick flick moments,” Dean would say. Sam had no one to tell his problems to. Casey may have been a bitch, but at least she understood what he was going through. At least she knew.

Dean spent the time he wasn’t in school sulking on his bed or researching for the hunt. He missed Laura, but every time Sam tried to talk to him or make it better Dean shrugged him off or told him to do his homework. Sam only felt more and more alone, and the sadder and sadder he became the less and less he wanted to eat. He managed to choke down a few pieces of a granola bar a couple days a week. He tried to fill his stomach with Gatorade, but it was nauseatingly sweet and he threw it up in the five minutes between classes. After that he stuck with water.

He tried to be hungry. He bought a sandwich at lunch and tried to take a bite. His stomach rebelled as soon as he picked it up and ended up dissembling the sandwich to eat it in bits. He’d finished up tearing the last piece of bread when the bell rang, ending lunch. Sam tossed away the ruined sandwich.

He went to the convenience shop down the block and stocked up on granola bars and trail mix. He couldn’t eat much, especially the m&m’s; he hated how the colors melted on his fingers and the sickly sweet smell. He ate methodically, managing to cough down a bag of trail mix in three weeks. Sam had to escape the room every time Dean hate a hamburger because the greasy smell made him throw up. Dean had yet to notice.

Sam just wanted Dean to notice him. He missed the days where he’d skip home from school and he’d be the only thing on Dean’s mind. He’d hug Sam and kiss his forehead and ask him how his day went. Dean never complained about Sam rambling on the most useless things. He never had a dad or a mom. He had Dean, and that was better than what anyone else in his stupid school had. Dean saw through all his facades when Sam was upset and hugged him until he was better.

It hurt that now, when Sam was in pain and just begging for help, Dean didn’t even glance at him. Yes, Dean had the right to be upset and finally take care of himself instead of Sam, but Sam _needed_ Dean.

Maybe he just needed to lose a little more weight and then Dean would pay attention. Dean loved Laura and she was definitely thinner than Sam. That’s what he’d do, he’d lose the weight and then be just as pretty as Laura and Dean would want him. Dean would love him now. He didn’t need Laura when he had Sam.

He picked up the granola bar from his bag. He’d have to limit himself to a bite every day in order to lose the weight he wanted to.

*  
Dean dragged Sam to his feet. “School time, Sammy.”  
Sam had been quite comfortably lying on his bed and wanted to take a nap. He usually loved school, but today he just didn’t feel like it. The first day of starting a new school was always the worst.

“Don’ wanna,” Sam protested.

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Dean said. “Come on, Sammy, school isn’t waiting for you.”

“I hate you,” Sam muttered.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean threw some clothes at Sam. “Get dressed, I’m driving you.”

Sam frowned. “Aren’t you going?”

Dean snorted. “There’s a few months left until I graduate. I’m not sticking around, Sam. Not if I don’t have to.”  
“That’s not fair!” Sam exclaimed. “If I have to go, you have to go!”

“That’s not how it works,” Dean growled. “Now get in the fucking car or I swear to god I will not be held responsible for what I do. Dad asked me to put you in school and that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

Sam glowered at him. “I _hate_ you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dean muttered. “Car.”  
“You think that I’m not upset we had to leave? You think I don’t miss the school? But you can’t just give up because you miss a girl,” Sam continued.

“Fuck you!” Dean yelled. “You stupid, little kid! You don’t know anything! Now get to school. And you aren’t getting a ride from me anymore, so put your best walking shoes on.”

“You’re the worst brother ever,” Sam snapped.

Dean looked angrier than he’d ever been. “Get out. Now.”

Sam glared at Dean and stalked out of the door with his backpack slung over one shoulder.

*

Sam spent the whole day sulking. He’d never acted out in school before, but today he just didn’t feel like suffering anymore. He didn’t eat, he didn’t talk, and he didn’t try to make friends. He got in and got out as fast as he could. The impala wasn’t there to pick him up after school, so Sam figured Dean was still mad at him. It was understandable, but Sam still felt bitter.

That was the minute he made his decision. He had to get out.

*

“Sam, is something going on with you?” Dean asked.

Sam smiled. “I’m good. Really good.”  
Dean looked unsure. “C’mon, I’m trying man. I want to make sure you’re okay. You’ve been acting kind of weird, what with the anger and the silence–,”

“It’s just teenage angst, Dean,” Sam assured.

Dean shook his head. “It’s not. You’re hurting, Sam, and I want you to let me in.”  
“If there ever were something wrong, I’d tell you.”  
Dean raised an eyebrow. “Promise?”  
Sam gave him the biggest, fakest smile he could muster up. “Promise.”

*

Sam spent his next years in high school getting perfect grades, joining clubs, and becoming an overall ideal college candidate. He played nice with Dean and Dad and when he got the letter from Stanford, saying that he not only got in but scored a full ride, Sam did a happy dance.

Maybe he was hungry every day and maybe the smell of food he once loved made him nauseous, but he was thin. He was becoming thinner every day. He got in the scale every day and watched the pounds slowly inch off his body. It didn’t melt off and Sam wasn’t suddenly beautiful, but he was getting there. He was getting away from Sammy, the fat little kid, to Sam. Dean still didn’t love him, though. Sam went through everything, he gave up _food_ for dean, and Dean still didn’t love him. He was no Laura.

Sam packed his bag stealthily. The confrontation with Dad was ugly and nasty. He and John had never gotten along, but having your own dad throw you out and slam the door in your face was never an experience anyone wanted to have.

Despite all that, Dean offered to drive him to the bus stop. The impala stopped in front of Sam’s stop, and Dean put the car in park before looking over at him. “I just wanna know why.”

“I was suffocating, Dean. That life was never for me,” Sam explained. “And you guys just kept forcing it on me. It made me miserable and you two didn’t care. You expect me to stick around in that kind of life?”

Dean stared imploringly at him. “Man, I need you here.”

Sam shook his head. His eyes watered. It was the closest thing to an “I love you” that Dean had ever given him. Sam didn’t want to hear it. “No you don’t. No one does.”

Dean clapped his shoulder. “You’re headstrong, Sammy. I never had a chance in hell of stopping you. Be safe, Sammy.”

Sam scooted over and hugged his brother in what might be the last time for a while. “It’s Sam.”

*

Stanford was simultaneously better and worse than Sam expected. He was away from his dad and his “teachings”, which was amazing, but sometimes Sam needed a hug really badly and he really needed Dean. It wasn’t incredibly different from home, no one questioned why Sam didn’t eat much. He didn’t have an outrageous amount of friends, but his roommate Brody introduced him to some of his friends. They included Sam in their study groups, but he was too quiet to really leap head first into the best friend phase.

Not until he met Jess, at least. She was pretty and smart and complimented Sam perfectly. Brody introduced them to each other in attempt to get laid, because Sam was too damn shy to do it himself. Sam never felt any attraction to her—no, he was too in love with his brother for that—but he really liked her as a friend. He knew she was interested, so he casually dropped into conversation that he was gay. She paused for a few seconds and then said, “Any hot guys you’re interested in? We could gossip about them together.”

And then Sam had his first, real best friend.

Unfortunately, Jess was intuitive and figured out really quickly that when they went out to eat, Sam would order a salad and eat maybe a couple of bites. She noticed his lack of appetite and the fact that he wore baggy sweatshirts and sweatpants even when it was 80 degrees out. He was smart, alright, and she confronted Sam about it after their Art History course.

“I was thinking about getting some food,” Jess said. “There’s an awesome burger place down the road, wanna join me?” She held out her hand in an offer, but her eyes told a different story and Sam reluctantly followed her.

She slid into a booth and ordered them both burgers. The whole restaurant smelled like fried food and grease. If he had to be here for another second he’d start throwing up.

Jess gave him a scolding look. “I know what you’re thinking,” She said.

Sam snorted. “I hardly doubt that.”  
“Yes, I do,” Jess said. “My sister had an eating disorder, you know. She was 5’3 and weighed 90 pounds and she still thought she was fat. Eventually we had to put her in a hospital.”

Sam’s heart picked up. “I don’t have an eating disorder.”

Two burgers were placed in front of Jess and Sam. The cloying scent sent Sam’s stomach rolling. Jess pushed Sam’s closer to his and said, “Eat it.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Jess glared. “Look, Sam, I’m not gonna force the food down your throat. I just want you to be healthy. An eating disorder is dangero–,”

“I don’t have an eating disorder!” Sam hissed. “I’ll prove it.” He picked up the burger and grease dripped down his wrist. He opened his mouth but his stomach clenched and gave up. He dropped the burger. “I can’t do this.”

Jess didn’t look smug like he’d expected. She only looked kind and understanding. “That’s okay, Sam,” Jess said. “We’ll get through this together.”

*

Sam leaned heavily on Jess. She helped him get through everything. Jess understood that he couldn’t wake up and suddenly eat things with more calories than a piece of a granola bar. Often he felt like giving up and didn’t eat something for days. Jess would force something down his throat, sometimes something as small as a piece of an orange or a pinch of trail mix. But he felt better. The first time he got on the scale and noticed another pound on his body, he cried and refused to eat.

Deep down inside him he knew that Jess would try her best and give it her all, but the only one that could save him—the only one Sam _wanted_ to save him—was somewhere driving in a black Impala and killing monsters. All he wanted was his big brother to hold him and tell Sam he was safe and that things were going to be okay. And if Sam couldn’t have his brother, he didn’t want anything.

He didn’t want to he saved if Dean wasn’t doing the saving.

But he didn’t know how to react when Dean tackled him on the ground and said “Easy, tiger,” in the tone of voice that made Sam want to bend over for Dean. He wanted to hug Dean but at the same time everything became more complicated. This was the reason that Sam was suffering. He was the cause of his heartache and turmoil and the fact that he would barely eat a granola bar without feeling sick. He wanted Dean to leave but he also wanted to hug him so tight it knocked the air out of his lungs.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sam hissed.

“I was looking for a beer,” Dean joked.

Sam glared at him. “What. The hell. Are you doing here.”

“Alright, alright.” Dean dusted himself off. “We gotta talk.”

The light flicked on and Jess appeared. “Sam?”

“Jess.” Sam slid over to her and relaxed in her presence. He introduced his brother and frowned when he flirted with her. Jess deserved much better than his sleazy brother. He didn’t know why he called Jess his girlfriend. It was easier than saying “this is the girl who’s trying to make sure I eat instead of starving myself”.

So he went off with Dean, hugging Jess goodbye and promising to eat and take care of himself until Monday. He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”  
“Love you too,” Jess replied. “Stay safe.”

*

Sam felt his whole body collapse and his heart give out. Without Jess, he didn’t have anything. There was no one to help him. No one would make sure he was safe and happy. Sam really wanted to give up. He wanted to surrender to his disappointment and just sleep for a year. Or longer.

“What’s gotten into you?” Dean asked.

Sam glared at him. “My girlfriend is dead and the one shot at a normal life I had _literally_ went up in ash. I guess that’s gotten into me, because everything I ever wanted is _gone_!”

Dean glared at him. “Sorry hunting isn’t good enough for you, college boy.”

Sam wanted to punch him. “I shouldn’t have come. We’re not close to finding Dad, Jess is dead, I’m tired of hunting monsters when no one thanks us, there’s no stability—what good comes out of this?”

“We save people, Sam,” Dean replied. “We keep the world a little bit safer.”

“I could have done that as a lawyer, too, and I would be getting paid for it!” Sam snapped. Dean huffed and ignored him for the rest of the night.

Sam’s appetite lessened again, along with his motivation. He ate less and less until the comfort of hunger returned. He watched his shirts grow bigger and bigger on him. Sam wasn’t happy, but he was comfortable.

           

 

_Dean_

 

Dean didn’t really know what was going on with his brother. Something was happening. Sam had a short temper and his eyes had prominent dark circles underneath them. He was unhappy and Dean knew it. He figured it was because of Jess, but it seemed like the fight had just gone out of him. Sometimes Dean thought Sam hunted as if he wanted to get killed.

Dean wanted to take care of him but Sam wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. He did notice that his brother was much to thin. He knew that Sam wasn’t training at Stanford but he shouldn’t have lost so much weight. He definitely had to keep an eye on that. It wasn’t as if Sam couldn’t hunt with his weight; his brother was more than capable of killing anything and everything. Maybe Dean was seeing things. Sam said he was fine, so he’d probably just wait.

*

Sam was getting suspicious, Dean could tell. Sam kept giving Dean these weird looks that he couldn’t entirely puzzle out. It wasn’t mistrust, exactly. It seemed more like doubt. Sam doubted that Dean understood him, he doubted that Dean cared, and he doubted that Dean could help. It hurt. All Dean wanted to do was help.

But he watched Sam regardless. His brother was compassionate even though the world had been cruel to him. It was one of the things Dean admired most about him.

But Sam kept losing weight. Dean watched him. He watched Sam run and work out, and he watched him when they went out to eat.

When Dean finally figured it out, he felt like a complete idiot.

Sam had the newspaper out next to him with his salad beside him. Dean was wolfing down a burger across from him and Sam barely concealed his feelings of disgust. Sometimes he thought Dean really was an animal.

There was a newlywed couple who had both died in their home with no cuts on their bodies or toxins in their blood. Sam circled it with his red pen and continued to scan through articles.

“Are you going to eat that?” Dean asked, pointing at Sam’s salad.

Sam looked at the glop of salad dressed on pale lettuce and the fatty chicken. They obviously spared no expense in their ingredients. “Not hungry.”  
Dean frowned. “You haven’t eaten all day.”  
“Yes I have,” Sam lied. “I had coffee and a bagel this morning.”

Dean didn’t look like he believed him. “Have a few bites. I paid for that, I don’t want it going to waste,” Dean said.

Sam looked at his salad. Even if he were hungry the concoction didn’t look appetizing. “I’ll get something later.”  
“No, I paid 10 bucks for that salad and you’re going to eat at least one bite,” Dean said firmly.

“I’m not five years old. You can’t scold me for not eating my vegetables,” Sam said.

“Watch me.” Dean crossed his arms. “I’ll sit here all night until you take at least two bites, Sam. And two real bites, not two half pieces of lettuce.”

Sam was not at all pleased, but he speared some salad on his fork and shoved it into his mouth. He forced himself to chew and swallow the green imitation of a salad. He managed to eat three bites of salad before his stomach rebelled and the fork dropped form his hand. “Happy?” He asked Dean.

Dean grinned. “Very.”

This became a routine. Sam would order salad and Dean would order a burger. The older Winchester would scarf down his meal and then stay at the table until Sam had consumed a few bites. Sam found that he could get a few pieces of chicken down, too. One day he couldn’t eat a lot, but he managed to drink the entire smoothie Dean bought for him. He started to drink milk in addition to water and one day he split a milkshake with Dean. The waitress obviously thought they were a couple and Sam didn’t do anything to dispel that idea. Dean didn’t either, and it made his heart jump up and down.

The feeling hit him like a baseball in his stomach. Sam was content. He may not have been happy as a clam or singing show tunes, but he didn’t feel a darkness swallowing him up inside. He smiled. He laughed. He missed Jess a lot, but it didn’t weigh on his shoulders and push him down. Sam was gaining weight and not crying over every pound.

Sam was getting better, and it was all because of Dean.

*

“You’re looking good,” Dean commented. “Gaining some muscle, college boy.”  
Sam groaned. “Are you going to retire that nickname?”  
“Not until you stop reacting,” Dean replied. Sam looked up at Dean, a tiny smile on his face. Things weren’t perfect right now, but since the first time he set eyes on Casey he finally felt like things could be okay.

_ _

 

_Dean_

 

When Sam was a baby, he was very expressive. When he was upset, he’d scrunch his eyes up and wail and pound against Dean’s chest. But when he was happy, he’d giggle and tug on Dean’s hair and wave his pudgy fists around. From the minute Sam learned how to crawl he would explore every inch of their motel rooms and always finish by waddling over to Dean and demanding to be picked up. It was obvious when Sam was upset and when he was happy, based on how tight he would hold onto Dean.

Not much had changed. Sam was still very expressive and Dean would read him like a book. He knew when Sam needed to be held and when he needed to be given space. And right now, Sam was dying to be held.

Dean, however, the stupid idiot that he was, had decided to make it not okay for the brothers to hug. Sam needed to be hugged and petted and yes, even snuggled, but Dean couldn’t give that to him. His heart ached to pull Sam into his arms and let him cry and cling to Dean as much as he needed. He didn’t even care if it was a chick-flick moment.

Sam was getting better, Dean could tell. He was eating more without Dean forcing him to, and on a few rare attempts he’d even clean his plate. The first time it happened Dean dug his nails into his palm so he wouldn’t start bawling. He was so terrified when he realized his brother wasn’t eating. At the library he researched eating disorders and found out as much as he could. He always had food on hand—healthy, low-calorie food—and he sneakily placed it where Sam could reach it. One time he ate a whole bag of trail mix, even the m&m’s.

He loved hearing Sam’s laugh. He laughed with his whole body, eyes crinkling, body shaking, with a big smile on his face. Dean wanted to make Sam laugh every day.

Sometimes he caught Sam sneaking a heated look at him. Dean didn’t dare read into it. He was probably just projecting his own emotions onto Sam. There was no way his baby brother could love him the way Dean loved him. Dean was fucked up. He was a lost cause, but Sam was still pure and beautiful. Sam would be okay.

Sam felt his book being pulled down and Dean’s face appeared in its place. “Wanna go to the park?” Dean asked.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “The park?”

“Yeah, you know. Trees, flowers, grass, etc. Park.”

“I know what a park is, I just don’t know why you would want to go to one,” Sam clarified. “You hate parks. And people.”

“I do not hate people,” Dean protested. “And I think we need a break. We can go bird watching and stuff.”  
Sam rolled his eyes. “I’ll go to the park with you if you promise to never suggest bird watching again.”  
“Deal.”

Dean dragged Sam into the Impala and grinned. “You know, it’s been ages since I’ve been to a park. The last one I went to was probably when you were a little kid.” He chuckled. “You picked a bunch of daisies and gave me a ‘bouquet’.” He looked wistfully out the windshield and Sam blushed.

“I sound like such a lame little kid.”

“Nah,” Dean corrected. “You were cute. I kept your bouquet until they died and Dad made me throw them out.”

Sam felt a swell of happiness. It was stupid and childish but it was enough to make him grin. “I can’t believe you kept it, you lunatic.”

“Hey, you would have cried if I threw it out. I had to get rid of it at night when you were sleeping or you would have thrown a temper tantrum,” Dean teased. Sam shoved him and Dean laughed.

The park was fairly empty because all the kids were at school. But compared to libraries and concrete parking lots, it was paradise. “What exactly motivated you to come here?” Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. “Do I need an excuse to take my brother out?”  
Sam flushed. Dean didn’t mean it in the way Sam hoped, but it was easy for Sam to imagine that they were on a real date. Their hands swung side by side and it would be easy to reach down and take his hand. That would be really sweet.

“You look miles away,” Dean said.

“Just thinking,” Sam replied. He realized for the first time in a long time he didn’t feel hungry. He wasn’t looking to eat a hamburger or anything, but he really was better. He could eat. “Something you wouldn’t quite understand.”

“Ha, ha.” Dean shoved Sam lightly, but he tripped on his shoelace. He fell into the ground and winced. “Fuck, Sammy, I’m so sorry,” Dean said quickly.

“Help me up,” Sam demanded holding his hand out.

Dean immediately stretched a hand down but when Sam had a firm grip on it, he pulled Dean down too. “You little bitch!” Dean exclaimed.

“What’re you going to do about it, jerk?” Sam goaded.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to regret that.”

Their taunts dissolved into a wrestling match that ended with Dean on top of Sam. “Surrender, bitch!”

“Never!” Sam tried to flip him but Dean kept him down. “You’re so fat!”

“It’s all muscle, Sammy.”

Dean’s grin was bright and happy and Sam loved him so much it ached inside. He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, and he wished he never had, but suddenly his lips were on Dean’s. It was the best damn kiss of his life, especially when Dean started to kiss him back.

Sam suddenly realized what was happening and he yanked his head back. Dean looked surprised and Sam was able to push him off. “I’m so sorry,” Sam cried. “I’m so sorry!”

“Sam–,”

Sam ran away as fast as he could. Dean was still getting to his feet when Sam sprinted away. He may not be able to outrun Dean, but he had a head start and could at least be able to hide.

*

Sam should have known he wouldn’t be able to hide from his brother. He found a little hiding spot behind some bushes but he was only there for twenty minutes when Dean showed up and pushed the bushes apart. “Let’s go, Sammy.”

Sammy trailed behind Dean meekly. He was waiting for the inevitable fallout. Dean would call him gross and untrustworthy and the person Sam loved most in the world would hate him. Sam didn’t know if he could handle it. Sam would fall into a depression even worse than when Jess died and this time he didn’t know if he’d even want to survive.  

Dean forced him into the impala and when the arrived at the hotel, he pushed Sam into the room and onto the bed. “Did you mean it?”

Sam didn’t try to act dumb. “Dean…”  
“Tell me the truth.”

“Yes,” Sam whispered. He closed his eyes and bent his head.

Suddenly, he felt a soft hand pushing his head up and cupping his cheek. “Don’t ignore me, Sammy,” Dean said.

Sam wanted to look away but Dean’s green eyes were mesmerizing. “I’m sorry,”

Dean sighed. “Stop saying sorry, Sammy. I’m not angry.”

“You’re not?” Sam asked.

“No.” Dean shook his head. Sam’s eyes closed in relief and then he felt warm lips kiss him.

His eyes immediately shot open. “That’s mean. Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not teasing,” Dean said quickly. “God, I never thought you would think that way about me, and now it’s on a silver platter. Don’t say no, Sam. If we both want it, let us have this. Just one, selfish, good thing in our lives.”

Sam smiled cautiously. “Okay. Okay, let’s have this.”

*

_A few months later_

 

Sam woke up with his head resting against something hard. He opened one eye and saw that he was sleeping against Dean’s chest. One of his arms was resting around Sam’s shoulder and his mouth was slightly open from sleep. Sam was one of those people that could never go back to sleep after he woke up, but he was so comfortable and so happy in Dean’s arms that he didn’t dream of moving. He snuggled closer to Dean and closed his eyes, trying to fall back asleep.

“I know you’re awake,” Dean mumbled. “I can hear you thinking.”  
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Sam asked nervously. “Sorry, Dean.”

“You can make it up to me,” Dean said. “I’ve got a bit of a morning problem.” He thrust his hips and Sam groaned.

“You loser, I’m not going to let you fuck me. It’s 8:00 am,” Sam protested.

Dean pouted. “But if you ride me, I’ll let you pick wherever we go to dinner.”

Sam pondered it. “And lunch, and dinner, _and_ you help me with the research.”

“Lunch, and I’ll help you with the research for an hour only.”

Sam grinned and kissed Dean. “Two hours and you’ve got a deal.”

“Fine.” Dean threw the lube at Sam. “But I want you to open yourself up real slow and let me watch.”

Sam uncapped the lube and put some on his fingers. He slicked up his fingers and wiggled them into his ass. He’d become a pro at opening himself up, immediately finding his prostate and making the exact faces and noises that would drive Dean mad. “Hurry, hurry,” Dean pleaded. “I want to fuck you!”

Sam grinned and stole a kiss. He decided three fingers were enough and started to sink down on Dean’s cock.  He let his head drop back. He remembered that just a year ago he was struggling to eat less than a whole granola bar. He never could have thought that he and Dean would be together. He never imagined he’d be happy to see his ribs concealed by skin and his stomach smoothed out from muscle. He had fat on his body and he wasn’t repulsed. He was riding his brother’s cock with Dean’s hand jerking him off. Sam came on Dean’s chest and kept bouncing until Dean groaned and orgasmed as well.

They were both hungry and ready to go out to eat, but Sam was so comfortable he didn’t think he could find the energy to move. He finally had Dean at his side, finally could touch him and kiss him without pulling away, and finally enjoyed sugar again. He still preferred a light salad, but he could have a sundae after dinner without throwing up.

Dean combed his hand through Sam’s hair and gave him a bright smile bursting with love. Sam grinned back and pulled the covers over him. Dean saved him, and now everything was fixed.

 

 

 


End file.
